


Regretless

by Endellion



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Character Study, M/M, No Sex, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 09:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16851763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endellion/pseuds/Endellion
Summary: Hannibal cares for Will after they fall from the cliff.





	Regretless

Hannibal didn’t really do regrets. Why should he? He was what he had been made to be, what he had made of himself. Before Will there had been no regrets. He relished what he did and who he was. Even, for a time, after Will he had still been regretless. It was a game and finally he had a challenger who was, possibly, a match for him. It was exciting. It was exhilarating.

Will saw things in a way that no one else did or could. He saw the messages that Hannibal left as though Hannibal could only speak in a language of blood and after all this time, someone came along who could read the writing. Will was sharp. He had edges, all acid with so little sweetness. Hannibal was sure, with the right ingredients, he could draw out the depths of flavour that Will held behind glasses and a lack of eye contact. Hannibal was the chef for the job.

Now, as he looked at Will unconscious and bloody, he wondered if he had made a rookie mistake. Had he spoiled the meat instead? This time there were no fatal wounds; no gaping slice in the gut, no almost brain removal. There was, however, a fall off a cliff. For a moment everything had been beautiful. They had worked in tandem against Dolarhyde. They had been in sync.

Will’s flavour had exploded from acid to rich bitter warmth. The sweetness of understanding had flowed between them and the rush had been worth dying for. But Hannibal still wasn’t ready for death. He was far too greedy. He wanted years with Will, with a communion of souls. He wanted to hunt with a partner, feed each other flesh salted with understanding and lust. He wanted time and sweat and bodies joining. He wanted shared meals and warmth in winter and a tongue as sharp as a sword lashing his skin only to tease at the wounds with lips and teeth.

Hannibal limped to the kitchen in the cabin and prepared a bowl of warm water and a cloth. He stripped the wet and shredded, salt-stiff, clothes from Will’s body. Then he took his time hand bathing him. His touches were light and sure as the surgeon he had once been but there was an exploration that was far from clinical. His nearly maroon eyes caressed each cleansed patch of skin. He ran the cloth over Will’s arms, slicking down the dark hair on his arm and pressing a kiss to the unconscious man’s still ocean-tasting wrist, before that too was wiped clean.

The cloth turned the water brownish-red, until it mirrored Hannibal’s eyes. He soothed strokes of the wash cloth over Will’s chest, devoted time to lifting each arm and rubbing softly along the scar that marred Will’s belly. A few times Will stirred, but he never woke. Hannibal refreshed the bowl of water several times, cleaning his legs and feet, murmuring to him the whole time. Things they would do, the places that Hannibal would show him. He cleaned Will’s cock as he had the rest of him; with care and commitment.

He got fresh water again and a fresh cloth entirely for Will’s face. He ran the wash cloth over Will’s lips, over the scar on his forehead. He ran it behind Will’s ears, and butterfly-soft over his eyelids. Then he got a towel and dried Will off, covering him with a blanket. Finally he went and took a barely-warm shower. The cabin would do for now, for recovery.

He wasn’t enough of a fool to think that Will would not be angry, hurt, betrayed. They had blood between them, sharp words and the glint of metal and the rust of dried blood. Clean once more, Hannibal went out and took the armchair where he could hold vigil and wake for Will to wake. He would be patient. He would see if he had not destroyed what they could have.


End file.
